


Five Kisses: A Multi-Ship Fic

by eeyore9990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Kissing Booths, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, the senior class at <s>Murder Central</s> Beacon Hills High School holds a bazaar to raise funds for prom.</p>
<p>This year, Stiles is manning the kissing booth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles/Lydia

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone ficlet for that ship. The end game is my OTP, Sterek, but you can just read the chapter for your ship and be happy.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, fandom!

A well-manicured hand he’d know anywhere slapped a five dollar bill down on the rickety table that had been set up for the kissing booth. Stiles looked up, too hopeful for words, to see Lydia standing there with pursed lips.

"This does not mean your ten year plan is working—"

"Fifteen," Stiles murmured, relief swelling in him.

"Whatever. But I knew if I didn’t do something you’d sit here all day earning no money for my prom. So pucker up, Stiles. We have a show to put on.” Flipping her hair back over her shoulder, Lydia crooked a finger at him and he hopped up from his seat and tripped his way around the table, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms against his jeans.

"Brace yourself," Lydia said, her lips twitching. "I don’t want you hyperventilating the instant—"

"Oh my god," Stiles said, cupping her cheek in one hand and pulling her closer. "Shut up and kiss me."

They were both grinning when their lips met, but it was physically impossible not to sigh and open his mouth to suckle her plump lower lip. Coach had glared at him this morning and poked him in the chest with a finger when he reminded him the kisses were to be kept to a five second max time, but Stiles ignored that directive.

He’d been manning the booth for fifteen minutes with no takers. He had some warming up to do and _Lydia’s mouth_ had starred in enough of his teenaged fantasies that he was so taking advantage of this moment.

Tracing his tongue over the seam of her lips, he delighted in the flavor of her lip gloss, and delighted more when she parted her lips for him. He licked inside her mouth, just the tiniest bit. At no point did he want to push his luck or stir her temper.

Redheads, man.

But she went up on tiptoe, spearing the fingers of one hand into the back of his hair and tugging, urging him to deepen the kiss. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer against him and flattened his hand over her lower back, loving the way it spanned almost the entire thing.

A loud cough pulled them reluctantly apart, and Stiles blinked blearily up to see Mrs Martin standing there, tapping one toe and looking pointedly at her watch.

With an impatient noise, Lydia pulled away, popped open her purse and pulled out another crisp five dollars. Raising an eyebrow at her mother until the older woman shook her head and walked away, Lydia fisted her hands in Stiles’ shirt and jerked him into another kiss.


	2. Stiles/Danny

Stiles knew he was sporting a dorky, crooked grin when Lydia finally sashayed away, having started his kissing booth off with a stunning twenty dollars. Stunning because that meant four entire kisses.

From Lydia.

Man, his fifteen year plan was looking up.

The sound of a throat clearing made him glance up in surprise to see a small line had formed while he’d been staring after Lydia’s disappearing back. Holy shit. A _line_ had formed.

Heart beating wildly, Stiles’ smile widened and he said, “Five dollars please, Madison.”

Another twenty dollars later, Stiles was feeling on top of the world. The last girl had parted from him with a, “Holy shit. I need more money.”

Fuck. Yes. 

Stiles’ head filled with visions of his senior year turning itself around before a shadow fell over where he’d plopped back down in his chair. Looking up, he raised an eyebrow and licked his lips.

"Danny?" He twisted in his seat to make sure the Kissing Booth sign was still visible. It was, in all its lurid pink and purple glory.

Danny held out a folded over bill, clutched coolly between his first and middle fingers. “Guys too?” he asked, his dimples making an appearance as Stiles tried to control his flailing limbs.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, of course."

Before he even had an opportunity to stumble his way to his feet, Danny was sliding one leg over his lap and straddling him. Stiles had a wild moment to worry that the chair would hold them both before Danny leaned down and bit at his lower lip.

Stifling a whimper, Stiles opened up, meeting Danny’s tongue.

Holy shit, Jesus Christ, this was nothing like kissing girls. Danny was pressed against him, all lean lines and coiled strength. His clean shaven cheeks were still just the tiniest bit rough, scratching at the skin around Stiles’ mouth—and shit, maybe he was giving Danny beard burn right back? Oh god, that was a kinda hot thought.

Danny moved into their kisses in ways the girls before him hadn’t, turning Stiles’ head this way and that as he eased off and deepened their kiss by turns.

"Hey, are we gonna get a turn or not?" an impatient voice called out, and Danny slowly, slowly ended the kiss.

Taking in Danny’s slightly dilated pupils, Stiles licked his lips—tasting Danny, holy shit—and murmured, “Does this mean I’m attractive to gay guys?”


	3. Stiles/Scott

After the Lacrosse team walked away from Stiles’ Kissing Booth, laughing and shoving each other, Stiles noticed Scott stayed behind.

"Hey, Scotty. Thought you were running the cake walk?"

Scott snorted. “Yeah, well, I was until Greenberg tripped and fell into the table holding the cakes, knocked it over, and all our cakes ended up smashed into the ground. Then we just said fuck it and sold tickets for a food fight. It was kinda awesome but also a bit of a mess.”

"Aww man, sucks I missed that." Stiles could just see it, the fun they would have had, flinging frosting covered bits of cakey goop and hiding behind an overturned table.

"Yeah, but it looks like you’re raking in the cash anyway."

"Dude, Scott." Stiles grabbed Scott by the shoulders and shook him gently. "I’ve made like…a hundred and seventy dollars, man. I swear I’ve kissed the entire senior class."

"Not…the entire class." Scott ducked his head, cheeks darkening with a blush as he held up five dollars. "Make it one seventy five?"

Stiles gawked at the money, then jerked Scott closer. “Dude, you get my kisses for free. After all, we were each other’s firsts, right?”

Scott’s smile was wide, crinkling up his eyes. “Right, but apparently you’ve learned some things since then. Jennifer Hollowell said you’re the best kisser in school.”

Stiles blinked. The co-captain of the girl’s volleyball team thought he was the best kisser? His chest puffed up with pride. “Hell yeah, I am. Got that spit thing under control a while back.”

Wrinkling his nose, Scott huffed out a laugh before shoving the five dollars into Stiles’ full jar and saying, “Prove it.”

Hands sliding from Scott’s shoulders to the back of his neck, Stiles tugged him closer and said, “Prepare yourself for the kiss you’re about to receive.”

It started off awkward, both of them snorting laughter into each other’s mouths, but soon enough the giggles fled in the face of a sweet familiarity. They really had been each other’s first kisses, so Stiles knew that smoothing his thumb over the skin just behind Scott’s jaw would make him part his lips on a sigh of pleasure and Scott knew how sensitive the lobes of Stiles’ ears were.

Unlike years earlier, though, Stiles had several inches on Scott, so he found himself leaning down into the kiss, enjoying the way Scott had to surge up into it. And Scott’s preternatural strength send shivers down Stiles’ spine when his hands curved over Stiles’ neck, squeezing firmly.

Licking deeper into Scott’s mouth, Stiles traced the tip of his tongue gently over Scott’s slightly pointier teeth, and a low rumble filled the air between them. Pulling back slowly, with several little sucking kisses, Stiles whispered, “You okay?”

"Yeah, man. Just…full moon’s close."

Nibbling at Scott’s chin in a show of submission he’d picked up from the discovery channel, Stiles tilted his head and said, “Hmm. Well, feel free to be as wolfy as you want. Not scared.”

Scott buried his nose behind Stiles’ ear and breathed deeply. “Pack,” he whispered, and pressed a small kiss to Stiles’ pulse, where it beat strong and steady in his neck.


	4. Stiles/Allison

After Scott wandered off to check out the other booths set up in the school bazaar, Stiles—and his lips—got a bit of a break. He snorted quietly to himself, still amazed at how much money he’d earned for the senior class.

Stretching his arms over his head, he tipped his chair back until it was balanced on two legs and groaned as his back popped. Ahh, sweet bliss. He rotated his head, eyes closed, and then jerked with a squawk when the chair was yanked backward.

"Jesus Christ, Allison!" he yelled, hand going to his pounding heart as she carefully lowered him back to a solid, upright position. "Holy crap, you scared me."

"That’s what you get for letting your guard down. This is Murder Central High School. You _never_ relax here, Stiles, unless you want some big bad to come along and rip your pretty skin to shreds.” Allison walked around behind him and dangled five dollars in his face. 

"Shit, really? You too?" Stiles asked, grinning and snatching the money from her. "Well, come on around here, Katniss, and I’ll—"

"I was thinking a different unlikely hero story, actually." 

Stiles flailed again when he felt her tip his chair, and then he relaxed. This was Allison. After everything they’d been through together, she’d earned his complete trust.

"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear, then Spiderman kissed him. 

He groaned, pressing up into it and trying to find a workable angle. After several mis-starts, they finally settled for sucking on each other’s bottom lips.

Stiles felt her hair fall on either side of them, closing them off from the rest of the bazaar, and he breathed in shakily. Putting a hand to the back of her head, he petted over it, probably tangling it all to shit. But it was so silky, sliding between his fingers and adding an extra dimension to this whole experience.

When Allison finally pulled back, she pressed a last kiss to his forehead and said, “Thanks…Mary Jane.”


	5. Stiles/Derek

Stiles was closing up his booth after a long and fruitful afternoon of kissing his classmates (and, on one memorable occasion, his principal). He’d already counted out the money, bagged it, and written out the receipt for the class treasurer. He was folding up the table when he felt someone staring at him.

Straightening, he turned and jumped back with a gasp. “Derek! Hey, dude, didn’t know you were planning to come.”

Derek shifted from one foot to another, his jaw working as his eyebrows drew together. “Lydia invited me.”

Stiles grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “She would.”

"She told me you were selling your mouth." Derek’s gaze flicked down, then back up, his pale eyes glinting.

Jaw dropping open, Stiles could only stare in shock while his brain caught up to that. “Dude,” he finally sputtered, “are you calling me a prostitute?!”

Derek jerked backward, his hands coming up defensively. “No! No, shit, I…” Pressing his lips into a thin line, Derek dropped his head forward until his chin hit his chest, the tips of his ears flushing red. “No, I, uh.” He dug into his back pocket and fished out his wallet, pulling a huge wad of cash from it. “I. I was going to buy the rest of your kisses.”

"The rest of…" Stiles’ gaze dropped to the seriously thick stack of cash, noticing that at least two of the bills were twenties. "Jesus, dude, it’s five dollars a kiss. How many kisses did you think I could possibly give in—" he checked his watch "—five minutes? Or is that a donation? I mean, I don’t wanna assume anything here."

"It’s not…" Derek glared down at the money that Stiles still hadn’t taken. "It’s not a donation."

"Okay, hey." Stiles gently pried the money out of Derek’s hand and, having no other immediate option, shoved it in his pocket. "Hey," he said again when Derek continued to try setting fire to the ground with the might of his gaze. "I’m not," he flailed his hands, "assuming shit, okay? Informed consent is sexy. Do you actually want me to kiss you?"

"Fuck, Stiles," Derek grumbled, looking everywhere but at Stiles. "Yeah. Okay? Can we just—"

Stiles moved in slowly, letting Derek have all the time in the world to back out if he was going to. Although, speaking of informed… “So you know my dad’s here, right?”

"Yeah, that’s kinda how my luck works," Derek sighed before tilting his head and pressing his parted lips to Stiles’.

Hoooly fucking shit, Derek could kiss. He wasn’t overly controlling, but he definitely knew what he was doing. Looping his arms around Stiles, he spread his hands, one going up to rest at the base of Stiles’ neck, and the other pressing tight between his shoulder blades. 

Their chests pressed together, forcing them to tilt their heads even more. Stiles heard a low moan, and was startled to realize it had come from his own throat. He took a teensy bit of advantage of the situation, dragging his hands up and wrapping them around Derek’s biceps, which flexed with every shift of his hands.

Damn, those _arms_.

Stiles knew logically that he had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to his body. He’d filled out from a skinny little dweeby kid to a lean, broad shouldered adult. He was pleased.

But he was also a realist. As nice as his own body was, it had nothing on the supernatural perfection of Derek’s. And all of that yummy, muscle-y goodness was pressed right up hard against Stiles’ everything, holy shit.

The scrape of Derek’s beard quickly made the skin around Stiles’ mouth ultra-sensitive, until he was making tiny little noises in the back of his throat, even as he tried to deepen the kiss further. Which was impossible, unless he wanted to literally shove his tongue down inside Derek’s throat.

And that was not sexy at all.

Stiles lost all track of time and location, tipping his head back with a moan when Derek began sliding his lips across Stiles’ jaw and down to his throat. “Oh god,” he breathed, his voice utterly wrecked.

His fingers spasmed on Derek’s arms when he felt the scrape of teeth over a tendon, and he had to yank backward, breathing hard.

Derek tried to follow him, mouth open and lips red and swollen. His eyes were glazed over, and Stiles almost said fuck it and went for it, but… “Dude, if we don’t stop, I’m gonna cream my shorts.”

Expecting irritation or disgust, Stiles felt a thrill when Derek’s nostrils flared and his eyes glowed blue before he snapped them closed. “Jesus, Stiles,” he breathed, his voice shaky. “You can’t…say things like that.”

A bitten off squeak made them startle and turn to see three girls standing there, clutching money.

"Oh, uh, h-hey," Stiles said, forcing his hands off Derek and taking three steps backward. They were tiny steps. Minuscule, really, but he was trying, dammit. "Sorry, ladies. Kissing booth’s closed.

One girl’s face fell, but her friend smirked and waved her money. “Yeah, that’s okay. I’ll pay to watch you make out some more with your boyfriend.”

"Sorry, girls," Derek said, glowering sexily at them. "I’ve paid in advance for the rest of Stiles’ kisses."

“All of them, huh?” Stiles murmured, for Derek’s ears only. 

"Got a problem with that?"

Stiles took a moment to think things through. Slanting a glance over Derek’s _everything_ , Stiles grinned and shook his head. “Not even one.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on my other fics, lol, but I needed something short and sweet to clear my mind.


End file.
